


Lipstick Comes in Bullets

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bonnie & Clyde, F/F, Girls with Guns, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 16:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1990152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How many things can go wrong? With the great depression hitting America just as the world teeters on the brink of war in Europe, two families are destroyed by the complex political trials of a bustling 1930's Chicago. Two orphaned young girls find each other, and their desire for revenge on those responsible for the death of their loved ones. Daenerys Targaryen and cigarette puffing Sansa Stark take on the roles of a young Bonnie and Clyde, travelling the country robbing banks and picking fights along with their gang of fellow minded rebels. Each robbery brings them closer to the day when they can destroy the justice system of Chicago from within, and find some closure for the family that they lost under its mismanagement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lipstick Comes in Bullets

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first attempt at fanfic, or at sharing my writing on any site or platform, so sorry if its a little rough~~

The bag thumped onto the floor, and the money seconds later into the bag. Sansa grabbed it in fistfuls, shoving wads at a time into the rough brown canvas sack with gloved hands. The marble was cold and her skirt was hiked up about her thighs, which meant the stone stung her knees in patches where her panty-hose was worn away. The paper was slippery against the leather covering her hands, and she was struggling to keep from dropping or losing any thick stacks in her hurry to pack them all, a problem exasperated by the violent shaking of her limbs. She sucked on the cigarette hanging from her lips and blew the smoke out of her nose.

“How are we doing back there?” A woman called from the doorway at Sansa’s back.

“Almost finished. Thirty more seconds,” She ground the cigarette in her teeth as she talked to keep it from falling into the bag of paper bills. She heard the soft tapping of heels on marble behind her and suddenly Daenerys stood over her; the gun she held was still pointed at the entrance to the bank vault, but her face was turned to stare at Sansa as she shoved the last scraps of cash into her sack and zipped it up.

“What are you doing?” She hissed, “Pick up your gun! Pick it up!” Sansa grabbed the tiny pistol from the floor beside her where she had dropped it walking in, glad of the mask covering the blush painting her cheeks. She almost stammered an apology, but this wasn’t the time. They had more pressing matters to attend to.

“Are you ready?” Dany asked, her purple eyes bright – from the fluorescent lights flickering overhead or from the fear propelling her Sansa couldn’t tell.

“I’ll cover you. Go ahead,” Sansa nodded, holding the gun in front of her and following her partner and she stalked into the silent room ahead.

The bank was small, barely larger than a family diner, with three tellers lined up behind desks to one wall and an eight by eight vault where the bulk of their cash was stored. The floor was concrete draped in layers of faux-Persian rugs, and on top of those, the handful of people that had been depositing or withdrawing money that Friday morning. There were six people lying face down, hands clasped on the back of their heads altogether. A fat woman in a pink dress that made her nose decorated with thick red veins, something that Sansa knew suggested a fondness for wine, look even redder. Beside her lay a thin, balding man, a toupee sitting sadly on the floor beside his downturned face. Nearer to the shining polished wood of the tellers’ desks were a small family, a man and woman with a small boy who they were both pressing into the floor, as if they could make him disappear entirely if only they pushed hard enough. Lastly, nearest to the vaults lay a tall, slim woman with long reddish hair and a blue coat buttoned up to her neck. She looked so much like Sansa’s mother that the girl almost halted as she followed Daenerys into the middle of the room, almost tried to call out her mother’s name. But no, this woman was too old, her hair to dark; she couldn’t have been Catelyn, Sansa knew, but she still had hoped.

Daenerys called out, drawing Sansa’s eyes from the woman who looked so much like her past, and raised her gun into the air.

“You will all lay still and silent. You –“ She lightly tapped the man with the toupee on the shoulder, “Rise. You will take this bag, open the tills, and put the cash inside. Do you understand?” The man nodded. “The rest of you will continue to lie where you are. For the next ten minutes this is my bank, and there will be no murder in my bank unless one of you forces it upon me.” Sansa’s job was to watch the doors, Dany’s to watch the man now struggling to tare the keys from one of the teller’s belt. This was her least favorite part. Her hands always shook when wrapped around a gun.

It was another ten minutes before Dany’s bag was filled with cash and slung around her shoulders and the pair were ready to leave. This was the most dangerous part. As soon as the two women left, one of the tellers would rise and call the police, who would fall down upon the bank in minutes. The town was small, hardly more than a few thousand people, and two strangers would be noted even if the two girls could lose the police among the twisting roads and back lots of the little village. They’re best chance, they had decided, was to leave entirely and take their chances on the open road. It was imperative that they move quickly – from the bank to the car, then drive until they find the little movie theatre back lot that they had found the day before to switch their plates, and then onto the highway moving south.

Sansa closed her eyes.

“ _Please,”_ she prayed. _“Lord keep us safe, give wings to our flight, please.”_ She felt Daenerys hand slip into hers, and when she opened her eyes she found the young woman smiling at her. The cigarette dropped slowly from Sansa’s lips.

“God is not needed today child. You have me,” She whispered, and ran. Sansa was pulled by her hand after her, and the two burst out of the small pair of glass doors like doves from a cage, skirts pulling about their ankles. The car was parked just to the left on the side of the road. She rushed to the passenger’s side, tearing Dany’s bag from her shoulder to throw into the backseat as her partner moved to slide behind the wheel. The car jerked forward with a lion’s rumble before Sansa had time to even close her door, and her head bumped against the soft back of the seat as it slammed closed with the vehicle’s momentum. Dany took a left, and then a right, and three more lefts before pulling into the lot they were looking for. The theatre was large and painted a bright red, the pride of the small town but still and quiet on that particular morning as they had known it would be; they circled behind it, where there car would be shielded from the eyes of those driving by not only by the theatre, but also by a large wooden fence that encircled the lot.

Sansa retrieved the matching licence plates from the glove compartment of the car, trading the gun for the sack where they were kept and tossed them to Dany, who retrieved a screwdriver nestled into the cup holder between them. Sansa emerged from the car as Dany rushed around to the front of the car to switch their plates. She stood on her toes to peer around the side of the building, watching as the occasional car trundled by and skirted pedestrians pulled children along behind them by the wrists. Lookout was her preferred role in the little heists they pulled together, her and Daenerys. _Always keep your hands clean_ , she thought to herself. She remembered it the way that he had said it to her so long ago in the little cabin he kept by the sea. If only he could see her now. She turned suddenly, staring back the way that they had come. They sound was faint, but unmistakable: the sound of sirens.

“Dany we have to go,” She called, her voice flat and face blank. It would do no good to panic.

“I’m on the last screw!” Her partner answered. She was working hurriedly to secure the back plate on, her hands slipping against the wood of the screwdriver in her leather gloves. Sansa ran back to the car and dived back into the glove box, grabbing a knitted blanket from under the gun. She threw it over the bags in the back, tossing her hat and gloved back with it. She pulled off her white coat and threw that underneath as well, smoothing down the blouse she was wearing underneath.

“Now Dany!” She called again, and heard her curse quietly. Seconds later the driver’s door opened and Dany slid in.

“The screw won’t go in, but it’ll have to do. Let’s hope no one notices.” They backed up slowly, and pulled onto the road, driving south at a modest pace. Sansa pulled the mask from her driver’s face and tossed it under the blanket with the rest. Her silver blonde hair fell out from underneath it in tight little curls that brushed along the tops of her shoulders.

They seemed to crawl along the road, and Sansa felt her hands shaking with nervous energy as they drove. She clasped them in her lap. Driving faster than they were would only point them out as the perpetrators of the crime at that moment surely being reported, and yet it took everything in the girl to not leap from the car and bolt down the road on foot as that surely would have made for a quicker escape.  The shops to either side of them eventually gave way to little houses with sloping shingled roofs and white washed shuttered windows, and soon even those began to thin out. Ahead of them, Sansa saw, the town faded into nothing, and beyond that open road lay ahead for miles. Almost away, she thought, almost safe. She rolled down the windows, trying to hear the call of sirens over the snap of the wind. Nothing.

“Are we safe?” Dany asked without looking.

“For now.”

It was several hours before they approached the next town, a little two street pit stop in the middle of nowhere. A gas station, a diner, and four little houses on a stretch of land no bigger than a football field meant that this place wasn’t even large enough to grace a map and certainly had no form of law enforcement. Still, the two thought it best to park their car about a mile down the road and walk in; they wouldn’t have cops, but they would have a radio, which by now would be spreading the news of two female bank robbers who escaped in a black car with a Michigan licence plate. Sansa sat on the hood of the car while Dany slipped into a spare change of clothes in the backseat, fingers a small stack of money.

“I’m sorry for dropping my gun. Earlier I mean. It was silly.” She heard Dany crawl out from the backseat and slam the door behind her.

“I only want to protect you Sansa. I wish I could protect you more, but it’s so hard, its- You weren’t meant for this life. You were meant for better,” Dany touched Sansa’s shoulder with one hand, which Sansa clasped in her own. She brought it up to her mouth and kissed each finger gentle, thinking on the silver-haired girl’s words. She was steel now, she thought, and she did not need protection. “Can we go? I’m starving,” asked Daenerys, and Sansa slide from the hood of the car and turned to face her. She had donned a dress of red cotton, loose about her bus and legs but cinched tightly at the waist by a strip of cloth belt tied into a messy bow. A peter pan collar hung from her shoulders and the sleeves ended just below her elbows. She had removed her worn leather gloves, but had donned a silver snake hairclip with rubies for eyes, a gift from Sansa, which she used to keep her tight curls from falling into her eyes.

“You look so beautiful in red,” Sansa remarked as they set off down the road towards the little shop together. “Your eyes look lovely when you wear red.”

“You once said my eyes looked like ‘shining amethysts’ when I wore red sweetling. Has my beauty faded so since we met?” She teased, nudging Sansa’s shoulder with her own. Sansa blushed and smiled at the girl. Though shorter than Sansa, Daenerys was three years older at almost twenty-one, and her body was full and womanly, if slim. Wide hips and peach sized breasts were obscured by the dress, but not hidden, and Sansa found herself admiring her beauty as they walked. If she noticed Sansa’s stared, Dany pretended not to notice to save Sansa’s blushes, as she tended to so easily.

The walk was pleasant, the day cool but windless and the sun beat down so that Sansa’s blouse soon became uncomfortably damp on her back. It felt good to stretch her legs after the car ride, and the stillness of the day was needed after the business of the morning. The girls chatted as they walked of plans for the night and the pleasantness of the weather and a manner of other things, enjoying each other’s company and, Sansa in particular, the lack of guns clutched in shaking fists.

They reached the gas station near four in the afternoon when the sun was beginning its slow descent towards the western horizon. Dany sent Sansa to fetch food while she took half of their money for a can of gas. They agreed to meet at the diner when finished. The gas station was small, but served as a small grocery store to the town as well as a refueling station for the cars that drove through, and Sansa perused the aisles slowly, looking for anything non-perishable and easy to eat cold. She settled on some cans of beans, some crackers, bread, cheese, and a few cases of water. Upon further thought, she ran to the back fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine and a packet of little lemon pastries. She walked over to the diner after giving the money to a friendly cashier, a large bellied man with a salt and pepper beard who smiled and talked of the coming fall parades as he rang her items through. Dany was already there, picking at a plate of fries and clutching a cup of coffee. Sansa sat across the booth from her, one of only four other tables in the small restaurant. Behind the counter was one thin young girl, Dany’s age, though Sansa could hear the sound of a man’s voice in the back, probably the cook.

“I ordered you a burger, I hope that’s alright,” Dany said as she sat.

“Perfect,” She smiled. Sansa drank a milkshake as they ate, not as partial to the bitter flavor of coffee as Dany was. She drank it black most days, and Sansa found the taste to sour even doused in heaps of cream and sugar. She had ordered it the first time she went out with Dany to a little coffee shop beside a bakery when she saw the other girl ask for a cup, hoping to impress the older girl her with her mature tastes in beverages. She had spat it out and gagged when it first touched her tongue, and Dany had laughed a pleasant, high laugh and teased Sansa about it all night, each time making Sansa blush a new. She had given up on the coffee and sipped a hot chocolate instead, the next time they went out together.

“Where are we off to tonight then?” She asked of the blonde woman as she ate, admiring the taste of the burger.

“We have two days before we are supposed to meet Jorah at a motel about twelve hours south. I was thinking that maybe we could spring for a room tomorrow night at that place by the lake – you know the one we visited last year? And meet him the day after.” Sansa knew the place, and remembered it fondly.

“Sounds wonderful,” She smiled.

“How much did we make?”

“Just under $4000.” Dany wiped a hand through her hair. “What?”

“It’s not enough Sansa. You know that.” She was frowning into her cup now, her forehead furrowed with worry.

“Hey,” Sansa took one of her hands in her own, squeezing gently. “Not on its own, but we did that bank last month! And the gas station out west a couple of weeks ago…who knows what Jorah has been doing for the past two weeks but he and Barristan always come through for you, so I’m sure its fine…”

“You don’t know that,” Dany interrupted, still frowning.

“We’ll get enough. I promise.”

The pair ended up leaving earlier than they had anticipated, and were on the road again by five, driving southwest towards the little lake and a much needed vacation. It was true, the two didn’t work, but robbing a bank took time, and the reward was getting smaller and smaller it seemed each time they did it. Dany was quiet as she drove, and Sansa rested her head against the window to watch the world drag by. It wasn’t long before she drifted into sleep.

When she woke, a fire pit had been dug beside their car, and a fire was burning merrily at thick sausages roasted on wooden sticks above it.

“Just in time, sleepy. I’ve made dinner,” Dany said as Sansa crawled bleary eyed to sit beside the fire. They didn’t have chairs, but Dany had spread the thick knitted blanket out beneath them so that they could lie in the open air and watch the stars above as they ate.

“What’s the time?” Asked Sansa as they finished their meal.

“Just after midnight, I think.” Dany answered, lying back to rest her head on her hands. Sansa played with the edge of her skirt for a moment.

“I bought wine.”

“Oh Sansa, did I ever tell you before that I love you? Because I do. I love you.” Sansa laughed and fetched the bottle, ripping open the little packet of lemon pastries as Dany uncorked their treat. It was white and sweet and familiar on Sansa’s tongue and she took delicate little sips from the bottle even as Dany swigged it lustily. Sansa had little loved wine when she was younger; she had found the taste bitter and disliked the weightless feeling it seemed to give her after merely one cup. Petyr had drunk often, and she found that more and more when she was with him she had been required to. Of course, with him was not the first time she had been drunk. That was with Tyrion, though she didn’t remember that day fondly either. Dany had drunk daily before she met Sansa, she had admitted one night as they lay together in the back of their car. She had been lonely, she had said, and wine was better than loneliness some nights. Sansa knew of loneliness, though not of wine, and had kissed Dany then and whispered to her that she wouldn’t have to be lonely again, not with her there, not ever.

The two finished the bottle and the cakes in an embarrassingly short amount of time, Sansa thought, and as she moved to stand she fell heavily back onto the blanketed ground. Dany laughed, heartily and loudly, standing to help Sansa up. Sansa took her hands, and pulled her down on top of her so that one girl lay sprawled and giggling on top of the other.

“Get off of me you clumsy fool!” Sansa yelled, pushing with all her might on Daenerys, laughter and wine rendering her arms weak and useless.

“Never,” Dany replied. “You’re my captive, my lady. It would be foolish indeed to let you escape now that I have you caught and bound.”

“I’m not bound,” Sansa corrected.

“Not yet,” Dany whispered, and suddenly her mouth was covering Sansa’s, and her giggles were drowned by the soft lips pressed against her own. Her hands flew up to twine in Dany’s hair, her fingertips gliding through soft bouncy girls and she smelled the delicate coconut scent that always seemed to be lacing her skin. She poked her tongue between Dany’s teeth and felt it touch the other girls’ feeling its soft warmth in her mouth then and moaning at each new caress. She moved her hands from the woman’s hair down to her waist, and then to her hips, guiding them as they moved and pressed against Sansa’s own. She squeezed the other girl’s butt, pulling it closer to her, aching to touch more of her, to feel all of her. Dany sat up and Sansa tried to follow but was pushed down again as Dany started unbuttoning the front of her little red dress. She slipped her arms out of her sleeves and let the fabric pool around her waist and across her legs pressed on either side of Sansa’s hips, and covered her breasts with her hands, smiling down at the girl beneath her.

Sansa rose then, removing each hand slowly and lowering her mouth onto one of Dany’s tiny, pink nipples, grabbed the other with her thumb and forefinger. She swirled her tongue about the girl’s nipple, feeling it harden as the other did as she twisted it gently beneath her fingers at first and then harder so that Dany cried out in pleasure. Sansa found Dany’s mouth again then and clawed at her back to press the two girls even harder together, breaking apart only when the silver-haired girl pulled Sansa’s blouse roughly from her body, exposing her own, large breasts to the cold night air. One of Dany’s hands was squeezing at Sansa’s breast, the other at her ass as they kissed, hot despite the chill of season.

Sansa leant forward, grabbing at Daenerys and lifting her up momentarily so that she could climb atop her, the other girl’s legs wrapped tightly about her waist and her hips rubbing insistently over Sansa’s. She pulled gently at the red dress still caught about Dany’s waist until it slipped over her feet, and Sansa began a trail of kisses down her body, sucking on her neck till a large red spot bloomed and meandering down across her collar bone and then again to her tits. She left little wet kisses down Dany’s stomach, flicking her taught skin with her tongue gently and she made her way down to the silver-blonde hair nestled between her thighs. Dany’s legs opened for her eagerly, and she ran one hand up her inner thigh, feeling the woman trembling beneath her fingers. Slowly, she slid one finger up into Dany, who groaned in approval. Grinning, she slid another, and leaned down to kiss delicately at the mound between the girl’s legs.  She moaned as she tasted the sweetness of Daenerys, as she felt her wrap her fingers into her hair to pull her closer, urging her for more.

Sansa pushed inside the girl again and again, pressing her tongue harder against her clit, sucking on it, letting the edge of her teeth rub against it gentle enough to make Dany shout out in pleasure. Slowly, she moved one of her hands down to touch herself beneath her skirt, and almost gasped when she found herself soaked and wet. She shivered as she slid one finger gently down the length of her, lingering as she moved slowly over one sweet spot until she was moaning with Dany, and the two were trembling in time.

“No…stop…” Daenerys pulled insistently at Sansa’s hair, pulling her face up to meet her eyes. “I want to feel you when you cum.” And then the girl was on top of her again, straddling her, kneeling above her face even as she pressed her own down between Sansa’s legs; Sansa grabbed at Dany, pulling her closer, tasting her from behind as she shook with waves of pleasure. She moaned, squeezing her own tits, squeezing Dany’s ass, quivering and gasping at the soft, wet heat pressed between her legs. She screamed then as release crashed over her, a scream that seemed to wake the stars above and petered into a soft whimper and Dany crawled up to lay beside her. They kissed, and Dany stroked the hair from Sansa’s face to tuck it behind one ear.

“I love you,” She whispered to Dany in the dark.

“I know, sweetling. I love you too.”


End file.
